As Real as it Seems
by diamond-helen
Summary: Hermione knew the final battle would change everything, but she never expected this. Continues from DH, no epilogue.
1. What is going on?

Hermione woke up slowly, her eyes still closed as she came back to consciousness, and then decided she would rather sleep a little longer. After everything that had happened no one could blame her if she stayed asleep a little longer. With that thought she snuggled deeper into the covers. It was then she realised something was wrong, not just with the covers but with everything. Instead of her soft sheets and fluffy blankets, charmed to always be the perfect temperature, there were stiff white sheets and a somewhat scratchy blanket. It didn't smell like her dormitory in Gryffindor tower either, which smelt of dust and varnish and the decidedly feminine scents of make-up, perfume and hair products. This room smelt of disinfectant, and antiseptic. It was a smell that was the same everywhere, in both the magical and muggle world. It was the smell of a hospital.

She thought back to the night before, trying to figure out how she could have gone to sleep in her dormitory and woken in the hospital wing. She remembered the pain, terror and confusion of the battle. The grief over Fred, Tonks, Remus and so many others, the sheer joy at Harry being alive and defeating Voldemort. She remembered the walk to the headmaster's office, being astonished at Harry's tale. Then the events in the office, and the walk back to Gryffindor tower and going to bed.

None of that explained how she had come to be where she was now. Having failed to find a satisfactory explanation she decided to look for Madame Pomfrey, and discover the reason for her presence in the hospital. With that thought she opened her eyes, and immediately shut them again. The lights in the ceiling were too bright and she couldn't look at them. Wait, lights in the ceiling? Muggle strip lights at that. The hospital wing was lit by charms which made the walls sort of glow, to cast a more even light than the torches which illuminated the rest of Hogwarts. Added to that Hermione became aware of a regular bleeping noise from her left, and a feeling in her arm as if needles were running into it. There was only one thing all this could mean; Hermione was in a muggle hospital. Getting more confused by the second she decided to have another go at opening her eyes, and to sit up and see if she could figure out exactly what was going on. The second attempt to open her eyes ended the same way as the first, and sitting up was equally as disastrous. She had barely placed any weight on her arms when they buckled and she fell back onto the bed.

After two more goes at sitting up she was angry, confused and a little frightened. What was going on? She could barely see or move, she was hooked up to some sort of monitor and had IV lines in her arm. To make matters worse her throat felt as dry as sawdust so she couldn't shout to attract attention. As well as all that she had no recollection of returning to the muggle world, and she was beginning to panic. If there was one thing Hermione hated it was not being in control, and right now she had never felt less in control, the events in Malfoy Manor aside that is.

The sound of a door opening and feet approaching pulled Hermione from her panic. She felt a figure come near, and attempted to reach out to them, trying to speak at the same time. All that happened was a twitch in her arm and a muffled grunt from her mouth, but it had quite an effect. The person gasped, and quickly left the room. Moments later hurried footsteps returned, more than one person this time and then it felt like there were people all around her, checking her pulse and talking to each other.

"Her heart rate is fine."

"Temperature is normal"

"Hermione, if you hear me squeeze my hand." A man's voice said, and she closed her fingers as tightly as she could, which wasn't very tightly at all, but it seemed so important that they knew she was there, even if she had no idea what was happening.

"Good girl," said the same voice, "Now can you open your eyes for me?" She tried to but the lights still hurt and almost as soon as she opened them she shut them tight. Somehow the voice understood. "Do the lights hurt Hermione?" She nodded, knowing she couldn't talk still.

She wasn't sure how long it went on for, the voice asking her to do things and her attempting it, but she grew more and more frustrated as she jumped through their hoops and nobody told her anything.

"Is it true? Is she okay?" A different voice asked, just as she thought she might explode. The voice left her happy, hopeful and confused. The voice was her mother's but Hermione's mum was in Australia and had no memory of her. That memory charm had been strong and was only removable by the caster. Did that mean she had been halfway around the world and returned her parent's memories between the night of the battle and today, whenever today was. All the revelations and confusion became too much for her, and her last thought as she once again lost consciousness was 'what is going on?'


	2. Explanations

Disclaimer: All recognisable people, places and events belong to JK Rowling and not to me.

Two days later Hermione had been poked and prodded, had more blood removed than she would have imagined was possible, and had two scans. She had been removed from the heart monitor, but not the drip which was running into her hand. She could open her eyes, although her sight was a little fuzzy, she could talk, albeit rather croakily, and could raise herself to a sitting position, although it took a lot of effort. She was still too weak to do most things, like feed herself an entire meal or pour a glass of water, and she was not, under any circumstances, allowed out of bed. The one thing that had not changed at all was that she did not know what was going on.

Every time Hermione had tried to establish what had happened she was cut off, told not to worry, that everything would be explained. By the time two days had passed she was completely fed up of patronizing phrases and meaningless statements. Over the course of her life she had faced trolls, dragons, werewolves, and Death Eaters. She had been colder and more hungry than she ever wanted to be again. She had been turned into a human statue and been tortured. All in all, Hermione was sure that whatever had occurred she was more than capable of dealing with it. With this in mind she devised a plan to get what she wanted. It was admittedly very obvious and a little childish, but then, she reasoned, if people were going to treat her like a child she would just act like one. Consequently when the nurse arrived with her lunch Hermione made no effort to pick the fork up and feed herself. She also rebuffed every attempt the nurse made to feed her. She continued like this for the entire day, refusing food, water, and washing. When the physiotherapist came to assess her movement levels she merely lay there and didn't even attempt the exercises. Her mum could not persuade her to do anything, and was getting more and more concerned. Eventually her consultant, Dr Ryan arrived.

"Hermione, what's wrong? You've been making good progress the last couple of days, but your refusal to cooperate could set your recovery back significantly." He sounded concerned as he spoke, which relieved Hermione somewhat, the only flaw in her plan had been that she risked angering the doctor.

"My recovery?" she croaked, "How can I recover when I don't know what's wrong? How can I get better when no-one will tell me how I got here? Why won't anyone let me ask what I need to ask?" By the time she had finished her list of questions she was crying, the fear and frustration of the last few days, coupled with the stress of the preceding months finally becoming too much.

The doctor waited quietly until her sobs calmed a little before he spoke. "I realise that it all must be confusing for you, but your physical health had to be given priority over your questions I'm afraid. However I am willing to listen to your questions and I promise to answer them as fully as I think you can handle. Ok?"

"Yeah. Some of the questions are more for Mum and might not make a lot of sense, but they're important. One thing, will you let me ask all my questions before you start to answer them?" Once both her mum and the doctor had nodded she continued. "The last thing I remember before being here was going to bed at school. So I would like to know how I got here, and also where, specifically, here is. Are Harry and Ron alright? I mean if I'm in a mug... a hospital does that mean they were hurt too? Did I miss the funerals? How did you get here Mum? Did I come and find you before whatever left me in hospital happened? Because if I did I don't remember so I would like to know the date please." Deciding that this should explain all of the key things she stopped there, and saw the confused looks on the faces of the adults. It was Dr Ryan who broke the silence which followed Hermione's list of questions.

"Let's start with the simplest shall we? I know this might sound odd but it is May 4th, 1998. As for where, you're in St George's Hospital in Kent." At this point he noticed the sheer panic on Hermione's face and stopped.

"Hermione, sweetheart what's the matter?" asked her mother.

"If it's May 4th then I woke up on May 2nd, which is the day the battle ended. That means I was here just hours after I went to bed, so I couldn't have gone all the way to Australia and removed the charms and brought you and Dad home. So since that's not possible, who are you, and where are the boys? How did you get me here, what are you planning?" By this point Hermione was getting very angry, and reached for her wand. As her arm moved she froze in horror, she hadn't seen her wand since Hogwarts, what if it was left under her pillow when she was moved? She was weak and defenceless and in a room with a stranger and someone poly-juiced to look like her mother. The panic she had kept pushed down since she woke up was returning full force, and threatening to over-whelm her again.

"Hermione, you need to listen to me," said the doctor. "I don't know what you think is going on, but this battle, your parents trip to Australia, it never happened. I don't know who Harry and Ron, was it, are, but they weren't with you two days ago. You need to listen to what I'm about to say. You have been in this bed, in this room, in this hospital since the end of July 1991. You were admitted with severe head injuries after you fell from a tree into a shallow pond while playing with friends when you were eleven. We can't find an explanation for what woke you after nearly seven years, but the fact remains that you have spent the last seven years in a coma."

Hermione looked at the doctor in shock, not able to comprehend what he had said. As it began to sink in she shook her head. It wasn't possible, he was lying, it was some Death Eater trick. It had to be. The last seven years couldn't be some sort of dream, they just couldn't. Now more scared than ever Hermione rolled so she was facing away from the doctor and her mother, and began to cry.

_A/N: Now I'm at this point a couple of mini-disclaimers. This is partly inspired by a little girl I know who showed me a story of hers which ended with 'and then she woke up' and partly inspired by the Buffy episode Normal Again. I'm really not sure about it to be honest so please let me know what you think. _


	3. Just a dreamer

Disclaimer: All recognisable people, places and events belong to JK Rowling and not to me.

Hermione didn't sleep much that night, she was too busy trying to get her mind around this situation. She couldn't accept that the last seven years simply hadn't happened, but it seemed such a pointless lie, and she could think of no reason why anyone would set all this up. The only logical answer was the doctor was telling the truth. Hermione's logical thinking had got her, Harry and Ron out of some very sticky situations in the past, and it made no sense to abandon her logic now. But then equally if it was true, and she had dreamt Hogwarts, then her logic hadn't got her out of those situations, because logically, she had never been in them. It was thoughts like these that chased each other round and round in her head, until she was so frustrated she felt like screaming. The clock on the wall said it was 3am before she finally drifted off to sleep.

She was woken up at half seven, and went through the, to her humiliating, process of being washed, fed and dressed. The fact that she was still dependent on other people to do the simplest of things, combined with the lack of sleep did not put her in a good mood. She was slowly reading Pride and Prejudice, her recently acquired glasses on her nose when the doctor came to see her. Along with Dr Ryan were two female doctors, both quite young and dressed in casual, fashionable clothes.

"Good morning Hermione," said Dr Ryan, "I hope you're feeling more yourself today."

It was all Hermione could do not to laugh at this, feeling more herself? The last time she had seen this man he had told her that the person she thought she was, the person she had spent seven long years growing into, didn't exist. So she wasn't entirely sure how she meant to feel like herself. Rather than trying to say any of this she settled for smiling at him.

"Good, good," the doctor smiled, apparently taking her smile as a positive answer. "Hermione, this is Dr Emily and Dr Lucy, they want to talk to you this morning, is that ok?"

"What do they want to talk about?" Hermione replied, suddenly on her guard. Something about the two women put her on edge, they looked too friendly, and somehow Hermione didn't trust them.

"Dr Ryan told us about the things you mentioned yesterday and we just want to talk about the things you think you remember, that's all." Hermione's mistrust of the woman doubled as she spoke, she couldn't have sounded any more patronising if she tried for a week. Hermione looked sharply at her, she had blonde hair and blue eyes. She was wearing a pink top over a blue denim skirt and was smiling at Hermione like you might smile at a precocious toddler. No, Hermione did not like this woman at all.

"Are you some kind of psychologists? Do you think I'm mad?" Hermione asked. The other woman laughed.

"No, we don't think you're mad. But yes, we are psychologists. Emily here is a therapist, I'm more researched based, but my area is dream psychology and to work with someone who has dreamt seven years of life, I find that very exciting. I'm interested in seeing how much of what happened here is reflected in your dreams, if you have any recollection of things you were told when in your coma, things like that. Does that sound ok?" This woman was speaking more like Hermione was an adult, for which Hermione was grateful. She was wearing blue jeans and a purple shirt, and Hermione was more comfortable with her than the other.

"Is it just talking to you today?" Hermione questioned, still cautious of the pair. They exchanged glances.

"No, it would be for a while, if you don't mind. Today we would like you to tell us the general outline of what you remember from after the day you were hurt and admitted to here. Then we would have regular sessions to go through the details. Also, we would be helping you adjust to being awake, filling in major things you have missed, that sort of thing." Hermione thought for a moment then nodded.

"Good, good. I'll be back later to check how things are, and the physiotherapist is going to come this afternoon to start your muscle strengthening exercises. Right then, I'll leave you to it." With that Dr Ryan left Hermione with the two psychologists. She looked at them warily for a few moments then Emily spoke, thankfully in a less patronising way than she had earlier.

"Right then, do you remember the day at the park near your house, when you fell?" Hermione nodded. "Ok, let's start there and then tell us all the big events for, say the next year?"

Hermione took a deep breath and began her story. She told them about the day in the park, how she had climbed a tree and one of the branches had broken, sending her into the pond below. She was wet but not hurt, and they continued to play until they had to go home. She told them about how that evening a stern looking lady in strange clothes had come to the door and told the Grangers that Hermione was a witch. She talked about her trip to Diagon Ally, and all the things she saw. She told them that she had spent the rest of the summer, which was pretty much all of august, reading her new school books and learning all she could about the wizarding world. She told them about platform 9&3/4, the first train ride to Hogwarts. She started to describe the castle when memories of the battle rushed back and she stopped talking.

"Are you ok?" asked Lucy.

"Yeah, it's just, something happened and it's kinda hard. I'll be ok. Where was I up to? Oh, Hogwarts." She smiled softly, the good memories overcoming the bad, and she tried to describe the magic and grandeur of Hogwarts, while also telling of her fear and excitement, all jumbled together. She explained the sorting, and the first few weeks, how lonely she was. She talked about the night of Harry and Malfoy's duel, and meeting Fluffy. She told them about the troll at Halloween and Harry and Ron. At this point she stopped.

"I need to tell you about Harry and a bit of history for the rest of this to make sense, but I'll keep it brief, ok?" Her two listeners nodded, and Hermione told them Harry's story, up until he started Hogwarts. She continued with first year, their suspicions about Snape, looking for Flamel, and eventually figuring it out. She told them about the Philosopher's Stone, and the obstacles. She finished up by repeating what Harry had told her and Ron in the hospital wing, and the end of year feast.

"Then we got the train back to London, I met my parents and we went home. That's first year." She finished. Emily and Lucy looked at each other, a little shocked by the detail and the extent of the story.

"Right then, I think we'll leave it there for today, since it's nearly lunch and you have physio later. But we could continue tomorrow if you like?" Hermione nodded, feeling tired and very emotional now she had started to tell her tale. It worried her more than she could say that they thought it was all in her head. She didn't know how to deal with the idea that it was all false. Telling it to Lucy and Emily, knowing they considered it all a product of her subconscious had already made her feel a step away from the magical world. Never, not even those first lonely weeks at Hogwarts, had Hermione ever felt so lost and so very alone.


	4. Dreams and Nightmares

Disclaimer: All recognisable people, places and events belong to JK Rowling and not to me.

Over the next days and weeks Hermione's life continued much as it had since she woke up. She would spend the mornings with Dr Emily and Dr Lucy, talking about her life at Hogwarts. The first week she painted the life she had led with broad brush strokes, and even that took some time. After she had told them about the big events she started to fill in the gaps. She described the people she had met, friends, teachers, enemies, megalomaniac Dark Lords. She told them about Crookshanks, which led to stories of Buckbeak and Snuffles. She told them about Viktor Krum and the Yule Ball, about her budding relationship with Ron, her friendship, almost sibling-like, with Harry. As she talked she cried more than she thought possible, for Remus and Sirius when she talked about her third year, for Dumbledore, even for Snape. When she was telling them about Fred and George's daring exit from Hogwarts she laughed until she cried and then she cried for almost an hour, for the bright young man who would never pull pranks again, and his twin, only ever to be half of what he was. She described Hogwarts, Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. It took over a month to tell them everything she could think of in the magical world, as her talking time was restricted to a couple of hours each morning during the week. After she had finished her story they asked her questions, usually about things that sounded unrelated to Hermione, but they seemed to think that the answers were important.

As well as the emotionally draining sessions with the psychologists she had daily physical exams done by Dr Ryan, and three sessions a week with the physiotherapist, and exercises to do to strengthen her unused muscles. In between all of this her parents would come and talk to her about all the things that had happened over the years. The most important thing was the news that her parents had divorced three years earlier. Hermione couldn't help blaming herself for it. A daughter in a coma had to put strain on any relationship. Her parents told her not to blame herself, that it wasn't to do with her, but she noticed they didn't meet her eyes when they said that, and she couldn't help but think that there was more truth in her theory than they were willing to say.

It was about a fortnight after she had come round that something happened to make Hermione realise just how much she had missed. She was recovering from a physio session when the door to her room opened and three young women looked in.

"Hermione?" asked one, "Is it ok if we come in?" Hermione nodded, although she had no idea who these people were.

"Oh, honey, it's so good to see you awake." The same girl was still talking, she was petite, with her blonde hair cut short, in a Pixie bob. She was smiling at Hermione, and the smile looked familiar. Her eyes flicked to the other two, both had brown hair, one very dark falling in perfect curls to just below her shoulders, the other had lighter, straighter hair which was halfway down her back, the front in two braids which were pulled round her hair like a crown. They both smiled at her and suddenly Hermione knew who they were.

"Janie? Louisa? Sam? Oh my goodness. Is it really you?" Hermione was amazed, these were the three little girls se had been playing with the day she had fallen from the tree. The day all this started. Now they were all grown up, not little girls. Well, she thought, it has been seven years.

"Yeah, sweetie, it's us. And we're so sorry." It was Louisa, the dark curly haired girl who spoke.

"Sorry? What on earth for?" asked Hermione. The three looked at each other guiltily. Clearly this had been bothering them for a while. Eventually Janie spoke again, running a hand through her short hair.

"We dared you to climb that tree, if we hadn't made you do it you would never have fallen, the coma and everything it's all our fault." All of them had tears in their eyes as she finished. To their surprise Hermione laughed.

"Don't be silly, it was an accident, you didn't know that would happen, we were always daring each other to do stuff, it's fine. Honest." The girls let out sighs of relief and moved over to the bed. Before she knew it Hermione was enveloped in a big hug from all three of them.

"We never forgot you, you know." It was Sam that spoke this time. "We visited on all our birthdays, and every Christmas. We'd have come more but our parents said it wasn't healthy for us to dwell on you." Sam stopped and smiled shyly. "I named my baby girl Mia after you as well." Hermione gasped.

"You have a baby?"

"Yeah, she's eight months now, it was an accident, but I adore her, wouldn't change it for the world."

They stayed for another hour, talking about boyfriends and friends Hermione had never met, bands and films she had never heard of. They had been so close, and these three clearly still were, but she was the girl-who-was-in-a-coma, not part of their world anymore. They were different from everything she knew, they had normal teenage years, no battles and near death experiences. Hermione had been on the run living in a tent when Sam had been having a child. There was no way she could relate to them. She said as much to Lucy and Emily the next day.

"Hermione, you're still talking of your dream world as if it were real. The biggest step for you is going to be accepting that Janie, Sam and Louisa, and everyone else have been living while you were sleeping. Sam was having a baby, you were in a coma, not on the run. Do you see the difference?" Lucy said.

At that point it hit Hermione like a ton of bricks. They were never going to understand that Hermione was the product of the wizarding world. To them she had to get better and adjust to life awake, to accept that this was reality and the other a dream. But she couldn't. How could she accept that Hogwarts and the wizarding world was a dream when she could see it, hear it, smell it, feel it every time she closed her eyes? She didn't know the three girls who had visited her, she didn't know the tired looking people who were her parents. She couldn't name the Prime Minister, or the latest bands or film stars. She didn't know what colour was 'in' and she hadn't read the latest best seller. This reality was not her world. She missed magic, Hogwarts and her friends. She missed the only place she had ever fitted in. All she wanted was to see Harry and Ron and forget all this. The doctors might say that the magical world had all been a dream, but to Hermione reality was a nightmare.


	5. Harsh reality

Disclaimer: All recognisable people, places and events belong to JK Rowling and not to me.

Hermione had been in the hospital for over 4 months before they decided she was ready to go home. Her muscles were almost up to full strength again, and she could do most things for herself, although getting up stairs was hard, and she couldn't walk long distances or lift heavy things. The rest of her strength would come with time and the use of her long unused body. Her glasses looked to become permanent; her eyes were too weak to not have glasses.

It was a sense of relief and freedom that Hermione left the hospital in the middle of august. She had quickly become bored in the hospital, the daily physio and psychology sessions doing little to relieve the boredom of sitting in the same room day after day. She had read a library's worth of books, and watched films and tv shows that her friends said were funny, or cool, or starred a hot actor. The three girls came to visit a couple of times a week, and her parents were daily visitors, but all they really did was remind her of how much she had missed in their world, and how much she missed her own. Every time one of her parents left the room with a muttered greeting as the other entered a stab of guilt tore through Hermione, despite all their insistence that their divorce had nothing to do with her coma she couldn't help but feel responsible. The visits from the three girls she had known as children mostly just confused her. They were making an effort but she couldn't relate the teenage girls, one who had a child of her own, to the giggling little girls she last remembered. Even if she could reconcile the adult versions with the childhood memories they weren't Ron and Harry and she missed her two best friends more than she could possibly say. They had been through so much, and then having survived a war she had been torn from them as surely as if she had died. Once or twice the thought crossed her mind that maybe she had. Perhaps this was Hell, and she was doomed to be here forever for whatever reason. Then she would shake herself free of such morbid thoughts and remind herself that she had faced worse and could do this, and was _definitely_ still alive, and would keep fighting.

For the first week she was at home Hermione was smothered by her Mum who barely left her alone for more than five minutes at a time. Luckily for Hermione her Mum had to go back to work the following week, leaving her alone to perfect her plan. Despite the reports from Dr Lucy and Dr Emily saying that Hermione had adjusted to reality she still held onto the hope that the wizarding world was out there, she just had more sense than to say so.

The first day after her mum returned to work Hermione stayed in and sat with a map of London to plan her trip the next day. Having made her plan she raised the idea of going into the city on her own to her mum at dinner.

"Mum, is it ok if I get the train into London tomorrow, maybe do a bit of shopping?"

"I don't know Hermione, are you sure you're up to it? Maybe you should wait until the weekend, I'll come with you. Or ask one of the girls to go with you."

"I just want to get out of the house and be by myself for a while; it's still all a lot to take in. I'm sure I'll be ok mum, please?" Hermione was trying hard to sound rational and not tell her mum she could cope with a day in London after she had fended for herself in a tent in the middle of random forests.

"Fine, but promise me you'll be home by four, and ring me around lunchtime to check in, ok?" Her mum replied.

"Thanks mum, you're the best!" Hermione hugged her mum and left to finish up her planning.

The next day Hermione was up early and in London by 10. Her first stop was the Leaky Cauldron, she figured it was the best place to start to look for wizards, the entrance to wizarding London. When she got to the road she was shocked. All the other cafes and shops were just as she had seen them last, but where the funny little pub should've been was a boarded up shop front. She took a deep breath and tried to think of why it would be closed. Then she realised. This version of reality, wherever it was and however she got here, had her as a muggle. She hadn't been to Hogwarts, and didn't have a wand so maybe she was seeing what muggles saw when they walked past. With that thought she decided to look for oddly dressed people appearing or disappearing from sight near the abandoned building, and sat in a cafe across the road which gave her a good view. It was two hours, lots of coffee and a sandwich for lunch later that she gave up. Nobody had even glanced twice at the building and there had been no robe wearing people anywhere on the street that she could see. Disheartened but not giving up just yet Hermione went home.

The next day she decided that she would try and find somewhere more specific, somewhere she could find people she knew and get some help. She had two options. The first was Grimmauld Place, but she wasn't entirely sure where she would stand in terms of the wards and charms on it, so she decided on option two – the Burrow. It took her three trains to get to Ottery St Catchpole, and then she headed through the village to where the Burrow should be. This was even worse than the Leaky Cauldron. There was nothing, just a field. Hoping that it was just wards keeping her out she went back into the village and into a shop. After all even Muggles had to be aware of Fred and George Weasley if they were within hearing distance.

"Hi, I was just wondering, do you know if a family called Weasley live near here? Red hair, lots of kids, bit odd I suppose." Asked Hermione as she bought a bar of chocolate in the shop. The girl behind the counter smiled but shook her head.

"Doesn't sound familiar and I've lived here my whole life, sorry. You sure they live here?" The girl replied.

"Erm, no, maybe it's the next village over or something, thanks though." Hermione left thoroughly confused. No Leaky Cauldron and no Weasleys, maybe they were right, maybe it was all a dream.

On the way home Hermione decided she had to keep trying. The idea of it not being real was too much to bear. She had one last place to try, but she would have to wait a few days.

It was a week later she made another trip into London, on September 1st. She made her way to Kings Cross and headed to platform nine. If there was a wizarding world the barrier between nine and ten would let her through to the Hogwarts Express, and she could get back to where she belonged. She approached the barrier quietly, then walked up to the wall and pressed her hands against it, leaning in. Nothing happened. She was getting some funny looks leaning face forward on a wall so she walked off. She stood nearby for an hour, until it had gone eleven and started to cry as not a single person passed through the gateway. She had to accept it, there was no wizards, no magic. This nightmare they called reality was now all she had.

A/N: Sorry this has taken so long to update, real life has been crazy busy. Please leave a review, if anyone is still reading!


	6. Belong

A/N This chapter contains a reference to suicide. It's not graphic but it's there.

Once she had realised that the wizarding world did not exist, or at least not so that she could access it, Hermione was aware that she had two choices. Either she could let it depress her, which would probably result in her being returned to the hospital and being given more intensive psychiatric care, or she could live the life she had now. Hermione, being Hermione, chose the second option. She had, she reasoned, switched the life of a muggle for that of a witch, and now would simply have to switch back.

It was a plan that worked for a while. She enrolled on a night school course for people without school qualifications, so she was able to take her exams and at least have some form of education to put on a CV. She went out with her friends, babysat occasionally for Sam when she needed an evening off, and got a job as a waitress in a local cafe.

She hated every minute of it.

It was the beginning of November, Hermione had been awake from her coma for six months and she was still missing the wizarding world as much as ever. She wondered if Harry and Ginny had got back together, if Ron had moved on from her, perhaps back to Lavender. She wondered if Kingsley was made permanent Minister, how well people were recovering from the pain and destruction of the war. The pain didn't fade with time, if anything it got worse. As time passed Hermione developed a plan. She resolved to give herself six months living as a muggle and then decided that if things were no better she would use her plan.

Christmas came and went. She tried her best to enjoy it but she couldn't help but think of Hogwarts Christmases, and even the previous Christmas with its trip to Godric's Hollow and near fatal encounter with Nagini.

Time passed and her self-imposed deadline arrived. The beginning of February and Hermione simply couldn't do it anymore. Try as she might she didn't belong, and she couldn't let go of her life as a witch. If a coma had placed her into Hogwarts originally then maybe she could get back after all. She planned carefully, doing her research so she got it right. Once she had everything prepared she took the hardest step of all.

_Dear Mum,  
I'm sorry for doing this to you, I know it's going to hurt you a lot. But I can't go on in a half life. Every day I die a bit inside. I need to me, but me doesn't exist here. This is the only way I have of getting myself back. I'm sorry, really truly I am._

_Hermione x_

There were tear stains on the paper, and on her cheeks when her mum found her later, deeply asleep, a bottle of tablets by her side. It was a sleep from which she would never wake.

Hermione woke up slowly, unwilling to open her eyes. She took a deep breath and instantly recognised the smell of her dormitory in Gryffindor tower. She stretched, and regretted it, stiff and sore from her injuries in battle. With a smile she realised it had worked, she had got back at the same point she had left. Then in a wave it hit her, that although she was back so many were still dead or hurt. Thinking of the pain and loss she realised she desperately needed to see Harry and Ron. She hurried through her shower and headed to the boy's room. They were just coming down the stairs as she made to go up them, and with a strangled cry she threw herself into first Harry and then Ron's arms.

"Hermione? What's wrong?" asked Harry, concern for the girl he thought of as a sister in his voice.

"Nothing, I had a dream where I lost you both, it was so real and I was so scared I'd never see you again."

"Never going to happen," Ron said. "you're stuck with us for good." The boys hugged her from either side and Hermione relaxed into them. No matter what happened next, no matter if it was all in her head, she was where she belonged.

A/N That's it. The end of my first chaptered fic. Good/bad/indifferent? Let me know please. Thanks to anyone who has reviewed or added it to alert lists. Helen x


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